


It Takes Being Nearsighted to See

by HeroMaggie



Series: Ser Chompy brings people together [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anders does love fuzzy critters, Enemies to Friends, Ferret!Fenris, Ferrets are adorable, Gen, Ser Chompy likes to chitter and romp, fluff...more fluff...and then EVEN MORE FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 19:58:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4317927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroMaggie/pseuds/HeroMaggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having faced down Hadriana, Fenris is now fearful that his former master has made his way to Kirkwall and decides that hiding out is his best bet.</p><p>But Fenris' idea of Hiding makes Hawke think he's been captured and lands Anders with the job of watching Fenris' pet ferret.</p><p>But that ferret is more than he seems and five days with the Healer makes Fenris realize he may have been a little nearsighted when it comes to a certain apostate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Takes Being Nearsighted to See

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lamenta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamenta/gifts), [Elsian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsian/gifts), [Draegaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draegaa/gifts).



> Most Definitely a Pre-Fenders story - I will not say this is ALL I'll write...but I make no promises. Though, ideas are always welcome.
> 
> Gifted to Lamenta, Elsian, and Draegaa - because you three are such enablers!

_**Slaver Pens, Wounded Coast** _

At the time, all Fenris felt was rage. Righteous, all-consuming rage. He stared down at the mage who had hounded his every moment when he was Danarius’ slave - used her position as apprentice to torture him, taunt him, push and press to make him slip up so that she could be the one to discipline him. Seeing her cower on the cave floor only made delight and anger swirl around in his heart and it was with great pleasure that he bent down and whispered, “I lied.”

Her scream of pain was cut off as her heart was pulled from her chest and crushed, the blood running down his gauntlet to drip on his bare toes.

“You said you wouldn’t kill her,” Hawke stepped forward, his eyes wide with surprise.

“I lied!” roared Fenris, spinning to look at the mage. “I lied. Because she was lying too. Traitorous bitch. Do you know how Hadriana hounded me? Tortured me...how she...all this time, all this running, and I am still hounded by magic. Still pressed by mages.”

“Fenris,” Hawke moved closer, reaching out a hand. “You don’t mean that.”

“Oh but he does,” Anders piped up from the back. “He’s not lying about that.”

“Anders,” Hawke said on an exhale, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Not. Helping.”

“The abomination, for once, speaks the truth.” Fenris spit. “And I am done here. Spend what time you wish looting these corpse. I...I need some air.”

Rage had gotten him through that fight. Had driven him back to this ramshackled mansion where he hid. But bursting into the room he lived in, that rage melted away into ice-cold fear. Hadriana had found him. She had found him and he had killed her. But...how long until Danarius followed? How long till word reached his former master that his favored apprentice was dead?

The room spun as the fear ate into his bones. Spun and grew, his vision dimming as his sense of smell grew sharper - the smells of mold, of rot, of pungent earthy mushrooms all flared into focus. He backed away from his clothing and scurred to the mattress, burrowing under the covers.

That was where Hawke found him several hours later - curled up into a tight ball and asleep.

***

_**Darktown, Kirkwall** _

It was a normal evening in the clinic. There were a few patients - none of them emergencies, all of them regulars. Anders was busy giving an older woman a poultice for her sore joints when Hawke walked in with a basket and a bag. He waited for Anders to finish before nodding to his back cubby. Anders just sighed and followed, glancing at his assistant as he walked past.

“Hawke, I hope this isn’t an invitation to a picnic,” Anders groused. “We were out all day and I have things to do.”

“I know and I’m sorry but...I went to find Fenris and I can’t,” Hawke had put the basket on the bed and the bag on a small table. “I searched his house and all I came up with was that.” He pointed at the basket and gazed at Anders with wide eyes.

Anders looked into the basket and blinked. Curled up, asleep, was a black and silver ferret. Anders had never figured Fenris for a pet-owner but a ferret did fit the cranky elf. “Alright.”

“I can’t have a ferret. I have Martin. Martin will eat that ferret,” Hawke explained with great patience.

“Well...I’m a cat person,” Anders said, emphasizing the word cat. “Not a ferret person. Where is Fenris anyway?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, he’s gone. His clothing and sword were in a heap on the floor. You know that elf would never leave his clothing like that. Somebody came and took him,” Hawke was pacing now, words filled with worry.

To be fair, Anders was starting to worry a tiny bit. It was true that the elf would never just leave his sword behind. And he wasn’t one to go out without his armor. In fact, Anders didn’t think he’d ever seen Fenris without his armor.

“So, I’m really worried that Hadriana was just a trap and that Danarius has him. We’ll be leaving tonight and I need you to watch the ferret,” Hawke had been saying while Anders was lost in thought.

“I know nothing about ferrets,” Anders argued. “Why not let Merrill help out? Doesn’t she have some...I don’t know...Dalish commune with weasel spell? She rather acts like a ferret some days…”

“Anders,” Hawke’s voice was chiding, the big man giving the healer a very disappointed look. “I need Merrill to help me track Fenris. Please? I can’t let Aveline have him...she hates rats and said he looked too rat-like. And Sebastian said the Chantry couldn’t take him…”

“Fine. Whatever. How bad could one ferret be?” Anders reached out gently and stroked the fur. It was soft, like a cat’s. And if he turned his head, it looked like a cat...a little. Smelled, but everything smelled in Darktown. “What does it eat?”

“They’re hunters. You have an abundance of, um, small prey around here. Mice and whatnot. I’ve brought down some frozen raw chicken and some raw eggs.” Hawke gestured to the bag. “If he’s Fenris’ he’s probably living on things he catches, though.”

By this point Anders had picked the ferret up and was cuddling him - which woke the small creature who blinked black eyes in some confusion at the healer. Anders offered the ferret a small smile and then gasped when the ferret snapped at him, quickly putting the squirming ferret on the bed. “Gah! He bites!”

“Oh, I’m sure you just startled him,” Hawke cooed at the ferret. “Bethy used to have one. Great for keeping the house free of pests. Stole all of Carver’s bits one summer, which was hilarious. Oh, they are little thieves. Watch your small, shiny items.”

“I don’t have any small shiny items, Hawke,” Anders groused, watching the ferret romp on the bed. The romping took the little creature to the edge of the bed and Anders grabbed the furry beastie before it could romp off the bed.

“Right! Well, good luck. Hopefully we’ll be back in a day or two...Merrill says she has a spell that might help. We’re going to start at his mansion and then move out to the Coast.” Hawke grinned as Anders sorta juggled the wiggling ferret, the little creature snapping once again at his nose and then finally settling down with a huff. “You two will be fine. I know it.”

And with that, Hawke sailed through the curtain and was gone. Anders and the ferret shared a look and both sighed.

“So, what do you I call you?” Anders put the ferret back down and tried petting his head with one finger, pleased that the ferret just sat there and stared at him. “Mm...you like to bite. And you like to romp...and you’re very handsome with these markings...I’m assuming you’re a he and not a she.” The ferret chittered and turned away, pawing at Anders blankets.

“Right. Ser Chompy it is,” Anders sighed, watching with interest as his blankets were pushed into a little nest that the ferret disappeared into. He gave another sigh and headed out to the main part of the clinic. As he went through the curtain he looked back, “Stay back here Ser Chompy, I don’t want a refugee to try to eat you.”

***

Fenris distinctly remembered being at home before he fell asleep. He remembered being afraid and then the disorienting change. He remembered burrowing under his blankets to hide from the world. And then he was at the abomination’s clinic. Being held by the abomination. Being talked about by Hawke.

He wasn’t really listening, too busy taking in the new smells - the pungent herbs, the sour unwashed bodies, the light soap, and the tang of magic - but the the feeling of being picked up while asleep had been upsetting and he had lashed out, nipping at Anders’ nose.

Which he was sorry for.

Now he was burrowed under the Abomination’s blankets and being soothed by the familiar smells of Anders. Which was contradictory since usually the mage just made him antsy.

He figured he could wait for Anders to get busy and then just...scurry from the clinic. He was small and could easily find a way into the Hawke residence. A little scampering and he could be in Hightown in no time. He heard a patient come into the clinic - the soft crying of a child, the murmuring of an adult - and figured he’d at least look. See if he could sneak out.

Wiggling out of the blankets, he blinked around him, scampered forward, and fell off the low cot Anders used as a bedframe. Shaking himself off, he snuck to the doorway and stuck his head out, sniffed, and then took off across the room.

Only to bounce into another cot. Shaking his head, he flattened himself and looked around. This was the one thing he hated when he was like this - his eyesight was shit. Sure, he could hear everything and smell more smells than he knew what to do with, but he couldn’t see very far ahead. Which made sneaking...difficult.

He could hear Anders murmuring to the child and then smelled the ozone of magic. Moving slower, Fenris inched his way across the room to the main doors and stuck his head out. Trash, unwashed bodies, something burning, sewer - the miasma of smells clogged his nose and he sneezed.

One more step out and he froze. What if Danarius was out there? What if...what if he was just waiting for Fenris to return home? The thoughts made Fenris chitter quietly and back up into the clinic and stop. He was shaking with fear when he heard a “lookit the funny kitty!” and then he was being picked up.

He blinked into two wide, grey eyes - eyes belonging to a child - and froze. He didn’t want to bite the child, but he was being held too tightly around his middle.

“Ah...Ser Chompy. Here, let me take him. He bites when he gets upset. He’s a ferret, not a cat,” Fenris felt jostling and then was being cradled in Anders’ arms. The smells of elfroot and magic surrounded him and he relaxed and began to chitter quietly to himself. A squint up showed Anders blinking and then smiling. “He’s being friendly right now. Want to pet him?”

“Funny ferret,” The little child said, small hands patting at Fenris. “Smelly.”

“A little, but it’s no big deal,” Anders replied.

Fenris sniffed. He was NOT smelly. Was he?

“You’re all better. Watch out for those stairs from now on,” Anders admonished.

“He will. Thank you Healer,” The words spoken by a woman, possibly the child’s mother. “Come along Tam, let’s get home before your Da worries.”

“Yes Mum,” Tam grumbled. “Bye funny ferret!”

Fenris peeked over Anders arm, squinted at the fuzzy vision of two people walking away, and then settled back down. This was acceptable for now. He was in the clinic, a place none of their companions would ever expect him to hide. Danarius would not know this place existed. He could stay here until news reached him that his former Master was no longer nearby.

Anders was staring down at him in bemusement, a little smile forming on his face. Fenris shifted a little and chattered out a question - the noise making Anders smile wider.

“You are rather cute,” he cooed at Fenris.

Fenris squirmed in response.

“When you aren’t trying to maul my nose, that is. But...that is rather cat-like behavior. Maybe you won’t be so bad,” Anders mused as he stroked Fenris’ fur. “And it is nice to have a companion about. It gets so quiet and lonely down here.”

Fenris did not care to hear Anders’ sob story. Any uncomfortableness felt by the mage was obviously of his own making. No, he did not wish to hear anything from Anders. He wanted to sleep for a while and then hunt. Or...he glanced up at Anders’ shoulders and wiggled out of the mage’s arms, scurrying up and over one shoulder to lounge in the feathers.

This, Fenris thought with amusement, was the perfect perch.

Anders was laughing, soft little huffs of amusement under his breath, while Fenris wiggled and chittered until he was comfortable.

“I’m beginning to rethink my name for you, Ser Chompy. Perhaps Ser Lounges-a-lot? Ser Romp N’Wiggles?” Anders laughed when he heard more chittering. “Well, Ser Chompy, if you’re comfortable, I’m going to go have a seat and sort some herbs.”

Fenris really didn’t care one way or the other. He was curled around Anders’ shoulders and snuffling happily into the feathers. A few minutes of wriggling and he gave a soft huff and relaxed back into sleep.

Anders felt the little body slowly go limp and gave a slight smile. It was, he thought, remarkably similar to having Pounce around. The warmth from the soft body slid into the mage’s neck and made him relax incrementally till he was humming under his breath while sorting herbs - more at peace in this instance than he had been since he last held his furry best friend.

***

Bedtime had been easy. Other than getting the coat off with the still-snoozing ferret. Ser Chompy lived up to his name when Anders had finally gotten a hand around the slender body, waking up and biting down on the mage’s thumb.

Then proceeded to look highly apologetic while Anders healed the wound.

“It’s ok. You should have seen some of the wounds Pounce left on me,” Anders prattled while brushing a hand lightly down Ser Chompy...Fenris’...body. “He liked to sleep on my head and my nightmares would wake him up and he’d claw me something fierce. Good thing I can heal myself, eh?”

Fenris’ only response to that was to make a giggling noise and start rooting around the blanket pile.

“Not a big conversationalist, hmm? You are planning on sharing those...right?” Anders nabbed one of the blankets in the pile and tried to shake it out, finding one corner anchored by ferret. “Please?”

Fenris blinked up at Anders and gave a distinctly grouchy “hmph.”

“You know, it’s obvious that you’re Fenris’ ferret. You huff just like him. Kinda broody like him, too. And your coloring is similar...did the incredibly handsome but cranky elf pick you out because you are also incredibly handsome but cranky?” Anders cooed a little at Fenris.

Fenris wasn’t sure if should bite Anders or burrow back under the blankets. Handsome...him? Since when did the possessed mage think he was handsome? And since when did Fenris care? The questions left him standing abnormally still and then letting out a long string of chattering as he tried to convey that he was not, most definitely, handsome in any capacity.

Anders took the chattering for acknowledgement and grinned, “See, you think you’re handsome. And that’s good. Always be proud of your looks.”

Fenris huffed again and tried standing up on his back legs. He waved his front paws at Anders as if to get his attention and then chattered more. He could, he suppose, change back...which would leave him naked and in Anders’ bed...a circumstance he would rather not deal with. It would also open him up to all of the mages inane questions.

Anders’ sigh made Fenris look up in the mage’s direction, little paws still waving. “I don’t know why I bother, Ser Chompy. That elf is determined to hate me. I mean, I’ve tried telling him how we’re alike. Maybe...maybe not completely. Maker, I know that. He was a slave. I’m not…” Anders sighed and sat down, nabbing Fenris and cuddling him.

“I just wish he would listen a little. Hear me when I talk about what it means to truly be a mage,” Anders said morosely. “It’s hard when people just...hate you.”

Fenris was smooshed in Anders’ arms, cradled against the human’s chest. Blond chest hairs were tickling his ferret nose. The mage’s smell was overwhelming - the tang of magic blending with the elfroot and soap. Fenris thought about scratching Anders’ and then sighed and went limp. He didn’t want to hurt the mage, just not hear his words.

He didn’t want to hear how lonely Anders sounded.

“It’s just, I know Hawke doesn’t take me out as often when Fenris goes. And Hawke doesn’t necessarily need another mage when he’s a mage and Merrill is a mage,” Fenris sneezed at Merrill’s name. “I know, a blood mage. But still. He’ll take us out and we’ll bicker and then I only see him when he needs potions or at Wicked Grace.”

Anders hugged Fenris a little closer to his chest, “It’s nice having you here, Ser Chompy. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a little friend around. Too bad I’ll have to give you back to the elf.”

Fenris found himself gently put back on the bed, Anders curling up with the one liberated blanket. The ferret watched the mage drift off to sleep tucked under the blanket and wasn't’ exactly sure what to do with himself.

***

That indecision lasted only as long as it took for Fenris to see Anders’ hair tie.

Now, Fenris wasn’t much of a thief when in elf form. But when romping around as a ferret...well...he got urges to nick little items. Shiny items. Soft items. Things he could then put in a hiding place and look at. Play with.

He could only blame the ferret part of himself for these weird urges.

At the mansion he had a little collection of shiny buttons, pieces of glass, and bits of ribbon. Here at Anders’, he didn’t have a collection. But that was about to change.

One bite was all it took to liberate the hair tie from Anders’ hair. He gave a little giggle and then jumped off the cot, scooting under it to place the hair-tie in one corner. Seeing the tie made him chitter a little and then scoot back out. A glance at the chair showed Anders’ coat...the one with the feather...the soft, pretty feathers.

His little ferret body couldn’t move fast enough.

Soon, Fenris had amassed a small collection of feathers, some bandages, one vial that had been on the floor, and the hair tie. Fenris was most pleased at the vial. It chimed when he tapped on it and was shiny. He really liked shiny.

Only now he was tired again and hungry. And the mage was sleeping. Fenris chittered in annoyance and scampered out from under the cot. A glance up showed one hand hanging over the cot. Fenris nosed it and the hand didn’t move.

Dare he?

He slowly moved to the darker outer clinic and concentrated, feeling vertigo as the room shrunk until...he could see.

Scratching at his nose, Fenris stepped lightly through the clinic to the back room, to the bag Hawke had brought. Inside sat the still-frozen chicken and cold, raw eggs. Mages, though Fenris, could be incredibly annoying but also quite useful. Another quick glance at the sleeping mage and Fenris took the eggs with him to the front room of the clinic.

Another moment and he was back to limited vision, considerably smaller, and twitchy. And inhaling the glorious smell of eggs. He gave a pleased chitter and started working through the outer shell, gorging himself on eggs until he fell asleep curled around the shell pieces.

Which was where Anders found him in the morning.

A blink at the egg-covered ferret had Anders wondering what, exactly, had happened while he was asleep. He was pretty sure the eggs had been in the bag...the undisturbed bag. So either he had a very special ferret...or the ferret stole somebody’s eggs. Either way, Ser Chompy was covered in egg yolk and extra smelly.

There was only one thing to do - he had to bathe the ferret.

***

“Alright Ser Chompy,” Anders said in the gooiest, cooing voice he could muster. “We’re going to get you back to your handsome self!”

Fenris harumphed at the cooing noises but had to admit the dried egg was uncomfortable in his fur. The sight of the large basin of warm water made him wiggle eagerly. He did enjoy a good bath. His harumph turned to excited chittering as he was carried to the basin and slowly lowered into it.

Anders had turned to grab his small cake of soap when he heard splashing. A quick look showed one wet ferret happily slogging back and forth in the basin, little head held above the water and body snaking happily as he frolicked. It was very cute.

“Well then, Somebody enjoys a good bath,” Anders said happily, laughing at the chattered response. “Here, how about I wash your coat?” Anders waved the bar of soap.

Fenris his pulled himself up the side of the bowl, head held cocked. He chittered a little and then wiggled, as if asking Anders to rub his back. Which the mage did, scrubbing in the soap and then gently rinsing off the ferret.

Clean and swaddled in a towel, Fenris had to admit that Anders was the person to take care of him in ferret form. Aveline had sorta screamed at him. Merrill’s house would have been a treasure trove of items designed to explode when touched. Isabela lived at the tavern...which would have been entertaining until he got vomited on. Varric’s chest hair offered some possibilities but again...vomit. Sebastian would have left him in the Chantry. And Hawke had that dog that howled and barked.

Anders seemed delighted to simply dote on him, pulling out the raw chicken and offering it up with a promise to buy some more. Out of all of his friends, the possessed mage would not have been the one Fenris would have picked for a caretaker that he would want to be around.

But there it was.

He gnawed on his chicken while Anders cleaned up after his bath and then opened the clinic. Perched as he was on one work table, Fenris had a good, well, a fuzzy view of the crowd slowly shuffling in.

And it was a crowd. A wave of injured and sick wafted into the clinic along with Anders’ helpers. The air was immediately filled with talking and sobbing, yelling and crying while the smells of blood, vomit, piss, sickness, and body odor filled the air.

Fenris was mildly appalled. He had seen the crowds in passing but hadn’t realized they started so soon…

And as the day progressed, he realized that they didn’t slacken.

Anders took a quick break in the morning to move Fenris to the back room and put out more food for him...and a quick break midday to rush into the back room to put down still more food for Fenris...but he didn’t seem to eat. Or stop. Or rest.

From sunup to nearly sundown, Anders healed and bandaged and stitched. He passed out potions and poultices while taking care of pregnant women, stabbed carta, hurt miners, and injured children. And he did it all with a soft voice and a smile.

It was just after dinner when Fenris found Anders slumped on a stool, shoulders hunched and head bowed. It was...Fenris thought...amazing the man could even still stand. He stood on his hind legs and chttered, tugging at Anders’ pants leg until the mage looked down with a tired smile.

“Hey there Ser Chompy. Want a cuddle, then?” Anders reached out and scooped up Fenris, letting the ferret crawl onto his shoulders. “Justice thinks I should work but I want a nap. What do you think?”

Fenris chattered at Anders and pressed his nose to the mage’s ear.

“What was that, Ser Chompy, work more?” Anders asked, squawking and laughing when Fenris nipped his ear. “Ah. Nap it is. Sorry Justice, the ferret is demanding.”

Fenris settled around Anders’ neck as they moved to the back room, then romped on the cot as Anders undressed. When the mage fell onto the cot, Fenris scooted up to the sad pillow, chewed off the new hair-tie in Anders’ hair, and then curled up in the blond strands to snooze - secure that he’d know if the mage tried to leave before getting some rest.

***

The days blended together - sleeping, healing, eating, romping under the cots and dodging Anders’ feet as he took care of patients. The patients thought he was hilarious and his romping made Anders smile. Which...made him feel weird. Awkward and shy and glad he was a ferret and not Fenris.

Because Fenris could never bring a smile to Anders’ face. Fenris couldn’t make the mage sit down and rest or go to bed. No - Fenris and Anders fought. But Ser Chompy and Anders cuddled and ate dinner together and curled up in bed together.

And it was nice...surprisingly pleasant. Safe feeling. More than just a friendly game or jokes told, this was quiet companionship and that was something Fenris had never had.

So when...after four days in the clinic, Hawke showed up - Fenris was a bit put out. He showed it by nipping Hawke on the finger when the big man tried to pet him.

“Hey! Your ferret bit me!” Hawke said, blinking in surprise and shaking his sore finger.

“He is named Ser Chompy. So...Fenris? You found him?” Anders felt sadness curl in his gut. If Fenris had been found, Ser Chompy would be going home.

“No. Merrill’s spell led us down to Darktown several times - to your clinic in fact. Which was weird. We gave up and started doing it the hard way - tracking along the coast and talking to Carta. No sign of Tevinter anything other than the ones we killed. If Danarius is out there, he’s not near Kirkwall.” Hawke took a seat on a cot. “We think maybe Fenris is off drinking a tavern out of business. So that’s our next idea - we’re going to hit up every tavern in Kirkwall.”

“That’s your idea?” Anders asked dryly. “Did you check your wine cellar? That’s where he’d be.”

“Haha. We already checked. And his. It’s not as full as I was expecting,” Hawke sounded thoughtful.

“He drinks a lot,” Anders pointed out. “Well, Ser Chompy can keep staying here. We’re having a grand time together.”

“Do tell,” Hawke grinned. “He’s sitting in your feathers and everything.”

“That’s his perch, thank you very much,” Anders sniffed. “I’ll miss him when you find Fenris.”

“You’re not hoping we don’t find the elf, are you?” Hawke narrowed his eyes on the mage.

“No. Just going to miss having Ser Chompy romping and chittering. I hope you do find the elf. It’s been almost a week. That woman...she was horrid. I...look, we don’t always get along but nobody should have to be at that woman’s mercy. Nobody,” Anders looked at his hands. “He’s obviously lonely if he has Ser Chompy and I...I can understand that.”

Fenris chittered and nuzzled Anders’ ear, making the mage laugh lightly. “See, Ser Chompy agrees.”

“Well, we’ll let you know what we find out. Thanks Anders,” Hawke stood. “Get some sleep. You look like shit.”

“And you smell like a dog’s ass,” Anders threw back.

“Hah. That’s because Martin sat on me,” Hawke waved and walked out with a swagger.

“That man is ridiculous,” Anders said to Fenris, who chattered in agreement. “What do you think? Dinner and some sleep or work?”

Fenris bit Anders’ ear, making him laugh. “Dinner and sleep it is. I got you more eggs, you little glutton. You’re getting fat. Fenris is going to yell at me.”

Fenris let out a little giggle and then bit Anders’ ear again, making the mage laugh harder. “Alright, alright! Eggs for you and a meat pie for me. Come on Ser Chompy, I’ll even brush you after dinner.”

***

Anders was passed out cold when Fenris finally scampered away. A quick drop to the floor and some skittering and he was in Darktown before he could think twice. Danarius wasn’t there. He wasn’t in or near Kirkwall. Fenris could go home...could resume being Fenris...could…

Leave the mage alone again.

That thought hurt more than it should. He was going to be back to Fenris, not Ser Chompy, and they’d be back to their normal bickering and hurtful statements. Nothing had changed...unless...unless something had. Unless the last five days spent being taken care of had shown Fenris that things could be different. If he wanted them to be. If the mage did…

It was a thoughtful ferret that entered the abandoned mansion in Hightown. A thoughtful ferret that scampered up the stairs. A thoughtful ferret that turned into a thoughtful Fenris. One that gathered up his clothes and sword that had been folded and left on his bed and dressed...and waited for the sun to come up.

***

The banging on the clinic door woke Anders. He raised his hand to pat at Ser Chompy, hoping the noise hadn’t bothered the ferret, and frowned when there was no ferret. He sat up and checked under the blankets, under the cot...scanned the room...still no ferret.

He was still frowning when he pulled open the door and found Fenris. Only the frown turned less upset and more worried. The elf was back and he had lost Ser Chompy.

“Mage,” Fenris drawled, leaning against the door. “May I come in? I understand you have something of mine.”

“Ah...yes. Fenris. Where have you been? Hawke has been going insane looking for you,” Anders stepped back, fear curling in his stomach.

“And you were not worried, as usual,” Fenris deadpanned as he stepped around the mage, his face a mask of indifference.

“No, I was. But I had my hands full,” Anders said, letting the door close. “Ah, patients and Ser Chompy.”

“Ser Chompy?” Fenris stopped inside of the clinic and turned to look at Anders.

“Your...your ferret,” Anders tugged on his loose hair, eyes bouncing around the clinic before he sighed. “That just went missing.”

“You have lost my ferret?” Fenris asked as he pulled his sword off his back, watching Anders pale and then blink as he laid it on a cot. “That is...unfortunate.”

“I am so sorry. I’ll look for him right now,” Anders fidgeted. “It would be like...Maker’s breath, like somebody losing Pounce. I couldn’t...I won’t let you worry.”

“Anders,” Fenris held up a hand. The sound of his voice stopping the mage. Fenris gazed into Anders’ eyes and felt the room tilt and widen. And then he was nosing his way out from under his clothes. Above him he heard gasping noises from the mage and hoped Anders didn’t collapse.

He would probably land on Fenris and that would hurt.

The world tilted again as Fenris was lifted and then he was face to face with one shocked mage. “Ser...Ser Chompy?” Anders gasped.

Fenris chittered, amused by the gaping expression.

“Fenris...you’re...Ser Chompy? But...How? Why? What?” Anders gibbered clutching Fenris to his chest. “Oh...Oh you can’t answer me like this. Ok. Hold on. Hold on…” Anders gently put Fenris down.

The room tilted again and Fenris scratched at his nose and blinked at Anders. “Ah…”

“Oh!” Anders flushed and spun around, rocking on his heels. “So...a ferret?”

“It wasn’t by choice, mage. Hadriana was in the middle of practicing a spell when it backfired. She was practicing on me so it backfired on me. Danarius, as usual, blamed me for it and refused to fix it.” Fenris tugged on his leggings and pulled on his tunic. “It has, surprisingly, served me well while on the run.”

“I can imagine,” Anders rubbed at his neck and gave a laugh. “Maker, if I could turn into a cat I’d never turn back.”

“Ferrets have bad vision. Oh sure, I can smell everything and hear everything, but I hate feeling like I’m walking in a haze,” Fenris groused, sitting on a cot. “You can turn around now.”

“Ah,” Anders saw Fenris sitting and sat down. “So…”

“So…” Fenris agreed. “Thank you,” the words came out slowly. “For taking such good care of me. I was...after Hadriana, I became afraid that Danarius was close by. I meant to hide in the mansion and Hawke found me and dragged me here.”

“So did you almost bite me because it was me?” Anders leaned back on the cot and grinned, “or because Hawke foiled your plans?”

“I do not enjoy being woken by being picked up,” Fenris groused. “I ah, you may be missing some...hair ties…”

The embarrassed look on Fenris’ face had Anders full-on laughing. The elf muttered to himself while Anders hooted, “You THIEF!”

“I couldn’t help it!” Fenris mumbled. “I like nicking things, alright? It’s...it’s like an instinct.”

“Is that why I’m missing feathers?” Anders leaned forward and poked Fenris on the knee. “Is it?”

“And a few vials,” Fenris growled at the poking. “Mage.”

“You took my stuff, I get to poke you,” Anders teased, standing and moving to drop next to Fenris on the cot.

For a moment, they both just sat there, the silence wrapping around them comfortably - like it had those last few days when it was just Anders and Ser Chompy in the clinic. Fenris hesitated a moment and then leaned against Anders’ shoulder.

“Mage, for what it is worth, I am sorry,” Fenris said slowly.

“Me too,” Anders sighed. “I’ll miss Ser Chompy.”

“Mayhaps he can visit on occasion. He would not be opposed to spending evenings. Especially if there are more eggs,” Fenris felt a smile curl up his lips.

“I think I’d like that,” Anders agreed. “I think I’d like that a lot.”

They sat there, quietly, until Hawke burst into the clinic, gibbering about Fenris’ clothing and sword being gone, and skidded to a stop - gaping like a fish at the sight of Anders and Fenris leaning against each other, smiles on their faces - relaxed and obviously comfortable in each other’s company.

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on Tumblr as Warriormaggie


End file.
